


A Leap of Something

by chickenfried



Series: Who We Are, What We Do [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Asexuality Spectrum, Attempted Sexual Assault, Consent for Pay, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sex Work, Switch Barry Allen, Switch Leonard Snart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenfried/pseuds/chickenfried
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why would you sell your time for pennies compared to what you could make in five minutes?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 7/22. Sorry to anyone who's reading this, there's new stuff in ch3.

 

Barry lets himself into the West’s house with the key he’s had since he turned 13, light streaming into the dark house from the motion activated porch light. The house smells faintly of Joe’s deodorant, Iris’ perfume, and roasted garlic.  It took him thirty four seconds to run the five miles from his apartment, but that's not what has his heart pounding.  Barry stretches out his legs and lies down on couch with a sigh.   A moment later he hears the soft click of a door opening.

“There’s still some pasta in the fridge.”

Barry’s heart skips a beat, like it always has when he sees her, and Iris’ sleepy voice chases away the last of the bad feelings from his nightmare.  Barry looks up to see her flick on the kitchen light.  His stomach growls and Barry looks at in betrayal.  It’s been less than a week since Caitlin told him the cause of his fainting spells, and he’s still not used to having to eat so much.  And somehow Iris, despite being kept in the dark about his biological changes, can still predict him with ease.  It’s one of the reasons that he knows without a doubt that she doesn’t see him as someone she could be romantically involved with, that she’s never picked up a hint of his feelings for her. 

Iris is wearing flannel sleep pants and one of Joe’s ratty old CCPD shirts, hair a little wild, and Barry can’t help but wonder if Eddie has seen her like this.  She shoves his feet over and sits down.  He stares at her imploringly, but she looks unimpressed.  He lugs himself to the kitchen slowly, with the affectation of an old man and Iris snorts and takes over his position sprawled on the coach.

“It’s like you’re having a second puberty, but worse.  I guess you’re making up for being fed by a tube for most of the year.”

“Something like that.”

_Ever since I have known you, you have believed in the impossible. What if you were right? What if you were right about the night that your mom died?_

Barry’s deep down conviction that his father was innocent was finally shared by Joe, by his new friends, and they were going to help him.  He was finally moving forward in getting his dad out of jail, and it seemed, moving farther away from his best friend.  She used to stay up with him when he had nightmares about his mother.  Now he has nightmares of Danton Black’s hydra-like arms dragging him off the building too and wakes up to an empty apartment.  Barry is used to lying by omission, has been doing it in some aspect for the majority of his life, but it feels wrong to keep the metahuman stuff from Iris.  Especially when she talks about the “streak”, wonder in her voice. 

He eats the pasta cold, standing in the bright light of the kitchen.

“One of the weirdest things about moving back, was being able to smell the house.  Like, I didn’t know what it smelled like before, and now I always notice whenever I walk in.”

Iris hums in acknowledgement and comes back to the kitchen a few seconds later.  She shoulders Barry out of her way to pull eggs and butter out of the fridge.  He steps back so she can reach the oven. 

“When you came back from College and moved out, I’d always notice the porch light come on, when you came by to visit.”

Iris pulls out a big mixing bowl and Barry grabs flour and sugar from the pantry.

“When you got moved to S.T.A.R. labs, I’d hear it click, see the light come on, and I’d know it was probably a raccoon or something, but I had to get up and check.  It still wakes me up every time it turns on.”

She smiles.

“I’m just really glad you’re here.”

 

When Barry brings brownies to S.T.A.R. labs the next morning, Cisco high fives him more enthusiastically than he did when Barry ran a mile in 2.63 seconds. 

“Iris West is a benevolent and generous god among mere mortals.”

Caitlin nods in agreement, mouth full.  

Working with Cisco, Caitlin, and Wells is nothing like the forensic division at CCPD.  Barry is on friendly terms with all his coworkers there, but he never felt like they could relate to each other particularly well.  He just _likes_ everyone at S.T.A.R. labs, and maybe it’s just the shared secret, but there is a feeling of camaraderie that he can’t remember having before.

Before getting hit by lighting, Barry knew the parts of town near the Wests’, the police station, and Jitter’s.  He spent almost all his free time researching odd occurrences and urban legends.  Now Barry has run down almost every street in Central City.  It’s comforting to know where everything is and Barry has started to enjoy walking around town with no destination.  It calms him down.  When he leaves that evening, the sky crisp and clear and bright leaves crunching beneath his unhurried feet. 

A few city blocks away from S.T.A.R. labs, Barry hears heels clack in a rushed contrast to his own pace and looks up to see an older woman hurry by, her face lined and anxious.  A moment later Barry hears why.

“Get your hands fucking off me!”

Barry finds the alley in under a second.  An inebriated man has a woman that can’t be older than Barry braced against a wall, bristling.  Barry’s not wearing his uniform.  The man slurs his words, voice laced with the vicious undercurrent of hate filled speech.

“Come on, you wouldn’t be such a slut if you didn’t want people looking, tou-“

“Police!”  He calls out before he can think further.

The man runs without even looking at Barry, shoving the woman to the ground, and Barry wants to chase.  Wants to bring this rapist bloody and beaten to the police station.  The woman pulls herself up with a hissed, “mother _fucker._ ”

Barry clenches his fists by his side and stays.

 “Are you okay?”

She glares at him for a split second before looking away.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Barry frowns and then remembers.

“I know.  I’m, uh, not actually a cop?  Technically speaking.”

She looks him up and down, then huffs out a laugh.

“Jesus.”

“Can I walk you anywhere?”

It’s been five years since he was in her position, but Barry still remembers how it felt after someone had threatened you.  And he was a 6’2 male.  This woman is barely over 5’5.  Her long black hair is tangled, and her face has just the remnants of mascara and eyeliner that didn’t come off when she washed her face.  She’s wearing shorts, a thin jacket, and boots.  Her fingers are white around the straps of her purse, and her brown eyes still look angry.

“Yeah to a bar maybe.  I guess I owe you a drink.”

 

 _Saints and Sinners_ is not the kind of place Barry has ever been to.  With such a corny name you’d think it would be tongue in cheek, but the bar is straight up skeevy.  The lighting is so low you can barely make out people’s faces, probably as much so you can’t recognize the patrons in a line up as to hide layers of grime accumulated on the floors and tables.  Incongruously, Madonna is playing from the jukebox.  It smells like body odor, stale beer, and faintly of vomit.

“Here?”  Barry can’t help but ask.

Fanny, as the woman introduced herself, laughs more genuinely this time.

“Don’t worry boy Lancelot.  Nobody bites.”

“Unless that’s what you’re looking for!”

The lady that calls that charming proposition out has teeth so white they shine even in the bar’s dim lights, somehow looking like she belonged in the bar, but at the same time wouldn’t be out of place in an opera house on opening night. 

“Lisa, what dragged you back to town?”

The two bar stools next to Lisa are unoccupied by the time they reach them.  The women greet each other with a quick hug. 

“Oh I’m only here for a few days, you know how family reunions go.  Who’s this?”

“This is Barry, Central’s resident white knight.”

A curious eyebrow.  Fanny sighs.

“Johnny was looking for trouble and he scared him off.”

Barry feels a flash of anger.  “You know him?”

Fanny’s upper lip curls. “He’s a regular.  I dance down at _Stardust,_ we get a lot of creeps.”

“Do you know his last name?”

“Briggs.  But don’t bother trying to start anything.  It’s not worth the hassle- hey Marcy!”

Fanny flags the bartender and orders two double shots of vodka.  Her hands are shaking a little.

Lisa watches them with narrowed eyes and when Marcy brings them the requested alcohol she whispers something in the other woman’s ear.  The bartender nods and Barry redirects his focus to the alcohol in front of him.  Why not?

After three shots, Barry isn’t even feeling buzzed, but decides to cut himself off anyways.  He never was a big drinker especially with new people.  Luckily another woman, introduced as ‘the girlfriend’ comes up to distract Fanny before she can give him too much grief for being a downer. 

“So, what’s your type?” Lisa asks with a lazy smirk.

Barry has a hard time getting a read on her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean do you prefer thinner?”  She nods to the girl who definitely looks too young to be here fiddling with the juke box, “Or thicker?”  She looks over to a busty woman leaning over the poker table.

                 “I only have sex for money.”

The music cuts off like his life is a cheesy 80s movie.  Barry only blurts it out because Lisa has a gleam in her eyes like she’s going to continue and go _further_ , and, like the entire multiverse is conspiring against him, ‘Roxanne’ comes blaring through the speakers.  Barry buries his head in his hands and can’t help laughing.  Fanny nods from her girlfriends lap.

 “Smart policy.” 

Lisa eyes him speculatively.  Barry has learned by this point how to read intent, and oddly enough, there’s nothing sexual in her assessment.

“How do you feel about referrals?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 7/22

The man Lisa introduces to him as “Lenny-” “Len”, is middle aged and built to the point Barry wouldn’t have said yes before he became a metahuman.  The motel they go to is cheap and the adrenaline rush he’s been riding since meeting Fanny must be fading, because doubt starts trickling down Barry’s spine. What was he doing?  Len wraps an arm around his waist and Barry’s muscles tighten up- they’re almost the same height- and talks softly to his ear.  He smells faintly like leather, musky cologne, and brine- no hint of liquor.

“I’m not looking for anything weird, but I’d understand if you want to back out.”

He has a nice voice.  Barry follows Len into the room and lets him shut the door behind him- he could be gone in the blink of an eye.  Before Barry can make any moves or spiels, Len pulls out a wallet and hands him five hundreds. 

“I don’t know your usual rate, but I hope this will suffice for a night?” 

Although he spends almost four times as much money than he used to on food, Barry still manages to save a little of every paycheck.  Since the lightning hit him in his lab, workman’s comp payed for his rent over the nine months he was in his coma and S.T.A.R. labs payed for his medical treatment.  With what he saved in college, Barry is doing incredibly well financially.  He doesn’t need money, but Len, though hard around the eyes, has been nothing but polite, and smells good- a rarity in this line of business.

“Yeah that works.”

Some tension in the air eases and Barry gives himself a moment to regroup before sitting on the patterned duvet, spreading his legs a bit and looking up at the other man from underneath his eyelashes- a look he had perfected by making silly faces in the mirror and to Iris.  Barry can hear the tv next door, the peppy jingle of a commercial.  Len’s lips part as his eyes travel his body slowly.  Apparently his old moves still work.  Barry hasn’t had sex in almost half a decade, and he still doesn’t feel the pull he’s heard people describe desire as, but sitting on that motel bed, Barry’s body feels like a live wire. 

“Can I take your clothes off?”

Len’s voice is a little deeper, a little rougher than before. 

Barry had hated having sex with people who drew things out, but now, he feels Len’s big fingers trailing slowly down the buttons of his shirt viscerally, like he’s going to crawl out of his skin.  There is something hesitant in the way Len runs his hands down Barry’s bare chest, almost reverential.  When he brushes Barry’s nipples it sends jolts of uncomfortable arousal down his stomach.  Len pulls down his boxers along with his pants, and Barry kicks of his shoes.  Barry’s got a semi and although he’s not ashamed of his body, but being the only one naked still makes him blush a little.  After what Barry feels to be an unnecessarily long pause, he’s not exactly a work of art in a museum, Len turns his head a little and yanks his shirt off.  He pulls a small box of condoms and lube out of his pocket and tosses them on the bed before taking off the rest of his clothes.  There’s another pause, this one decidedly more awkward.   

It takes a second for things to click before Barry is smiling as encouragingly as he can and getting off the bed, moving the lube and condoms to the side table and pulling the blankets and sheets down. 

“Why don’t you join me?” 

And maybe Barry uses his new control over his vocal chords to make his voice sound a little deeper- it’s not like Len will be able to notice.  It’s easy to maneuver the older man the way he wants and Barry runs an encouraging hand down the muscles of his arm, waist, thigh.  Len is more muscular than the men Barry remembers, and his skin is soft.  Barry usually enjoys topping more than he does the other way around, but tonight feels too intimate, too _slow_.  Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done this in so long.  He breathes in through his nose and grabs the lube.  He starts with the other man’s erection and works his way down.  The slight squelching sound of the lube is loud against their breathing and the muffled soundtrack of whatever the person next door is listening to. 

He’s patient, even though the buzzing under his skin almost unbearable, but when Barry finds Len’s prostate with two fingers stretching him gently, he comes with a low groan almost immediately.  Barry looks up in surprise.  Len’s cheeks are a little flushed and he’s looking fixedly at the ceiling, full lips bitten in distraction.  Barry feels a bloom of (purely professional) pride.  He runs a hand down the older man’s hip, slick with sweat now and shaking slightly, before easing his fingers out.

“Do you want me t-”

“stay.”

The response is slightly hoarse.  Len is still looking at the ceiling.  Barry probably shouldn’t think that a man probably twice his age that had just paid him for sex is cute, but he has a track record with these kinds of things.

After cleaning up with a warm wash cloth, Barry lie down beside Len.  It’s not something he’s done with other clients, not after cleaning up, and he feels awkward and stiff.  Len pulls him closer, tentatively, against his side.  The arm wrapped around his chest, the solid, warm body behind him, feels nice.  Len, even with the drying bodily fluids, still smelled good.  He can feel the thrum in his body ease.  The soft sounds of the television next door, intermittent cars racing by, and the steady inhale and exhale of Len’s breathing lull him to a dreamless sleep. 

Barry almost gives himself away the next morning.  He hadn’t planned on falling asleep.  The sound of the bathroom door opening woke him and Len rubbing a towel over his face was the only thing that hid Barry’s millisecond leap out of bed.  He sits back down with a thump.  Len lowers the towel and looks at Barry with a quirk of his eyebrow- unconcerned that his entire body on display. 

“At ease soldier.  I think you’re off the clock, as they say.”

Barry slows his heartbeat through sheer will power. 

 “Oh uh, good morning?”

Len’s smirk is slow and deliberate.  Barry hadn’t been paying much attention the night before, but now he can’t help noticing how handsome the other man is.

“Yes it is.  It was very nice meeting you, Barry.  I’m glad my sister introduced us.”

Lisa is his sister.  That was weird wasn’t it?  Len hangs his towel on a chair and starts pulling on his slacks, smoothing out the wrinkles.  He’s is built broad, his muscles shift visibly underneath the thin layer of fat.  Something about the lines and colors of the older man keep Barry entranced like good cinematography.  With his shirt buttoned and tucked into his pants he looks like he could be a run of the mill businessman, but Barry figures he’s probably a con man.  Len shrugs his leather jacket on and rolls his shoulders and smirks at Barry’s attention.  Barry’s not sure why he’s blushing this time.

“I had a very pleasant night, if you’re interested in a repeat performance, my card’s on the table.  I’ll be around for a few weeks.”

Barry shakes the offered hand on autopilot, and then Len is at the door.  Barry meets his eyes for the first time that morning.  They’re lighter than he thought.

“Thank you.”

The door is shit before Barry can respond.  Len’s “card” turns out to be ripped piece of paper with a Central City area code number written in neat evenly spaced digits.  It’s sitting next to a ten left presumably for housekeeping. 

Barry stumbled into sex work in college.  He’d left it behind without ceremony when he moved back to Central City and got his dream job working as a forensic scientist, and before last night, Iris had been the only one who knew about his less than legal past.  He's not even sure why he said yes last night. He’s not going to call, he only shoves the paper in his pocket because he can’t be bothered to throw it away.

 

The Flash pays John Briggs a visit the next night, and Barry resolves to forget about everything that had happened over the past few days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 7/22

“Your glucose levels are good, heart rate normal- for you- and your blood pressure looks healthy.”

Caitlin’s serious face is close to his when she asks,

“Is there anything abnormal that you’ve noticed?”

Cisco is sitting at a table in the other room- Barry can see him through the glass working on pages and pages of schematics for something that Barry doesn’t fully understand the purpose of.  He’d tried to explain it over lunch, and Barry had nodded along to his enthusiasm, wondering if this was how Iris felt when he went on one of his nerdy rants.  Barry thinks about the other night, the tension thrumming through his body, but decides to keep that to himself- nothing bad had happened.

“Nope, everything’s normal!”

One night spent with Len had been a whim, the issue isn’t going to come up again.  Barry thoughts drift to the phone number, still in the pocket of his pants.

 “Why are you blushing?”

Caitlin’s eyes are narrowed.

“I, what?”

“YES!”

Barry and Caitlin startle away from each other at Cisco’s exclamation.  He swings through the doorway seconds later and squints at them.

“How do you feel about roller blades?” 

The resounding “no” is spoken simultaneously.

“Are you actually trying to kill him?”

Caitlin’s glare is frostier than the one she’d been leveling on Barry moments ago, and he lets out a relieved breath.  Barry had gotten used to lying to doctors at a young age, but for someone so socially awkward Caitlin had a knack for making him feel guilty.

It’s strange and wonderful- maybe even more so than his powers- to have friends outside of his foster father and his best friend who he happened to be hopelessly in love with.  In college, when most people create connections and a good social circle, the person Barry had felt closest to was a 78 year old man named Steve that payed him 700 dollars a night to have sex and buy him dinner.  Steve had a strange sense of humor- he got a kick out of people assuming Barry was his son.  Barry had the feeling he had been paid mostly for human company.  He almost invited Steve to see his graduation when the time came, seeing as he had almost singlehandedly footed the bill for Barry’s living expenses for those years. 

 “What are they arguing about today?”

Dr. Wells’ eyes are sparkling, and Barry is forever in awe that he was now working side by side with _the_ Harrison Wells.  A man somehow better than Barry had imagined.

“Roller blading at super speed.”

Wells’ face actually pales and Barry can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

 

After spending all day at S.T.A.R. labs, Barry’s apartment seems quieter than usual.  He’d started renting the place within the month of returning to Central from College.  He told himself at the time it was because he needed space to get over Iris, but one small hopeful part of him had wanted to impress her.  She didn’t spend the night there anymore- not after he woke up and she was with Eddie- and neither of them mention it.  The first time he’d slept with anyone else had been last night.  When Barry does his laundry, he sets the piece of paper on his dresser.

It takes him what feels like hours to fall asleep, and Barry wakes up late.  The wash of panic recedes into exhilaration and he speeds through his morning rituals, out the door with minutes to spare.  Of course he ends up _literally_ running into a tall business woman on the street.  She grabs his arm before he can run off with an apology.  She’s tall with shoulder length blonde hair and light eyes, and after a moment Barry recognizes her.

“Barry, right?”

“Yeah, you’re Fanny’s girlfriend?”

She smiles.  “Sylvia Sinclair.  I didn’t really get a chance to thank you the other night.”

“Oh, there’s no need-”

“I’ve got to get to work, but could I buy you lunch or something?”

They end up exchanging numbers and make plans to meet at the shitty diner across the station.

 

Barry’s direct superior, chief Angela Margolin, is a consummate professional though she has an unspoken tendency to assign him cases Joe is working.  When he finally gets in to work she hands him a stack of paperwork without comment.  Despite putting less time into his day job, Barry is actually doing more work than he ever has before and as a result he gets less flack for being incorrigibly late.  In fact, Barry has to consciously slow his work pace so he doesn’t spend all of his shift twiddling his thumbs.  Barry’s alarm rings to remind him of his lunch plans.

He’s only five minutes late, and gets to the _Motorcar_ as Sylvia is sliding into a seat in one of their dilapidated booths.  They go through the motions of awkward small talk before they hit on what is on both their minds. 

“I understand why she won’t, but I’ve been trying to get Fan to call the authorities.  Johnny’s been stalking her for almost three months, and I’ve scared him off a few times, but after what happened the other night… I can’t just ignore what she wants.” 

Sylvia is perfectly composed, but her voice breaks a little.  Barry grabs her hand across the table, wishing he was in the Flash suit.

“I looked him up.  I work with the police, and will make sure he never comes near her again.” 

Sylvia pulls her hand out of his and leans back against the fraying vinyl with a squeak, expression unreadable.  “And how exactly are you affiliated with Central City’s finest?”

Barry winces.  “I’m a forensic scientist, but I know people!  And I won’t tell anyone Fanny’s name, but I promise he’s been taken care of.”

Her face smooths out after she runs both her hands over it.  “I don’t know why I believe you.”

Barry smiles at her, trying to look innocent.

 “So how’d you meet Fanny?”

“Through Lisa, actually.  She drove me to Central City, got me a job at _Stardust_.  I actually got my current job through Fan’s aunt.”

Sylvia stops with a happy look on her face, and Barry can’t help comparing it to Eddie’s when Iris comes up in conversation, to the pictures he’s seen of himself.

“Len gave me his number.”  It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it, before he even realizes he wasn’t to say it.

“Is that a good thing?” 

Barry can’t find an answer to her question.  “I haven’t done anything like this since I got out of college.” 

Sylvia nods with a thoughtful expression on her face.  “I don’t know your financial situation, or Len very well.  I don’t like men in general and he’s not an exception, but Lisa loves him, and Lisa saved my life.  People with our work history need to look out for each other, and _I_ can promise _you_ that he won’t hurt you.  There’s no shame in going back or staying out.”

 

Barry’s distracted for the rest of the day.  It should be backwards, but he had a harder time adjusting to working as a forensic scientist, which he’d aspired to since the age 10, and living in the city he was raised in,  then he did fucking people for money in a foreign place. When he returned home from college, things didn’t snap together like Barry had expected them to. Barry wasn’t ashamed of having sex for money, but he’d witnessed a thousand times how so many people looked at sex workers, heard his coworkers talk about them like they were lesser humans.  Iris was the only person he had told, and Barry was unbelievably grateful for her support.  Joe had always been a little thrown by Iris’ passionate defense of sex workers rights over other issues, but there’s a picture on Barry’s desk of father and daughter smiling at a celebration of decriminalization.  It’s one of Barry’s favorites from the album Iris collected for him during his coma. 

The sun is setting when Barry gets back to his apartment, and his stomach is growling.  He should eat more, but the greasy diner food had settled badly in his stomach.  Meeting with Sylvia had knocked loose some of the carefully constructed boundaries he kept the separate parts of his life in.  Barry wants to run to the West’s house and fall asleep to the hushed conversation between Iris and Joe.  Iris knows about his sex work, and Joe knows about the Flash, but he hasn’t told anyone about Len or Briggs.  He feels like an impostor.

Barry stares at his phone.  He used burner phones in college, when he was mildly terrified of getting caught and ruining any chances he had of working in law enforcement.  As the Flash, Barry had done things miles beyond the small violation that soliciting was now.  Barry rolls his shoulders and puts himself in the headspace he hadn’t managed to get to the other night, when he wasn’t prepared.  The numbers are written neatly in dark blue ink.  The whirling negative thoughts and self-doubt drift away, and he punches in the numbers.  Before Barry can say anything, Len’s voice is clear and resonant against his ear. 

“Barry, I’m glad that you called.”


	4. Chapter 4

The first time Barry had sex was in his freshman year of college. Unlike the majority of his peers, Barry never experienced idle attraction. He’s assumed it was because he’s been in love with Iris since he was ten years old and the reason he never thought about her that way was because she was uninterested. Although he entertained passing fantasies of dating someone who wasn’t Iris, after his ill-conceived attempt at dating Becky Cooper in high school it wasn’t not a high priority. The first time he had sex was also the first time Barry did something to earn money that turned out successful.

As it is for everyone that goes, College had been a study in new experiences for Barry. Being away from Iris and Joe, working for rent instead of pocket change, making huge life decisions. At first Barry had thought the man who solicited him had been joking, but somehow he’d ended up with fifty dollars in his pocket and touching someone else’s genitals for the first time. It ends up being a little gross, but no more than certain science experiments or cleaning the bathroom after that one time Iris got the flu and Joe was at work. The encounter had stayed on his mind.

In high school, he had more curious about carbon dating and how much DNA you could get from someone’s hand print, than sex. Looking into the spectrum of human sexuality felt like a whole new world, strange and a little unsettling, was opening up. People were into what? And then he’d found another, less discussed side. People with scarring experiences, people with chemical deficits, and people with no mental or physical “reason”, that didn’t experience sexual attraction. It made the alienation he’d felt when everyone talked about something they thought was universal snap into focus.

When he’d told his high school girlfriend that he didn’t want to have sex with her, she told her friends he was gay. Joe had just assumed he was shy after an excruciating sex talk. Iris had correctly guessed that he didn’t want to talk about that kind of thing with her, but thankfully not the reason why. It was a side of him that he kept to himself even after he found the words, more secret than the actual illegal activities he’d willingly taken part in. Barry’s scholarship covered his tuition, and Joe offered to cover everything else, but Barry turned him down. He’d researched as much as he could and convinced Iris to watch his back, and somehow he made it work. In addition to money, learning how to hustle had given him a certain social savvy that had made his life infinitely easier.

 

Barry meets Len at a different room in the same hotel. Len opens the door for him with a beer in hand and though his face looks a little flushed, his eyes are clear. A pair of black boots are set neatly by the door and his feet are covered by thick wool socks. Barry smiles slowly and looks him up and down. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a tan thermal shirt hugging his chest, long sleeves rolled up his forearms. He smells like pine.

“Hey handsome.” Barry puts just enough tease into his voice that the trite words don’t come off false.

Len snorts and lets him in.

“There’s beer in the fridge if you want.”

He sits down at the coffee table and motions for Barry to take the other chair. Len’s short hair is damp, and Barry realizes he’s taken a shower, a consideration Barry greatly appreciates. Len looks at Barry for a heavy moment, face blank, then speaks.

“I feel that I should tell you, you’re the first man I’ve slept with.”

It puts that first night into perspective. Barry had talked people through their first time, been with people backed painfully against the closet wall. It’s easier to explore something new in a situation that you felt in control of. Barry relaxes his body posture in the chair, hoping Len will follow suit.

“Okay, thank you for telling me. Is there anything you’re curious about? Do you want me to talk you through anything?”

Len does mimic his sprawled position, but he does so with a knowing look.

“Just because I wasn’t sleeping with men doesn’t mean I was a prude. It’s why I wasn’t expecting it to be so- different.”

“Well, I am highly skilled. In all seriousness though, people tend to internalize a lot of stuff about sex and sexuality.”

Len laughs, and it sounds bitter.

“No kidding.”

Barry knocks his foot against the other Len’s under the table.

“This is a judgement free zone. If something makes me uncomfortable, that doesn’t mean I think there’s something wrong with you for wanting it.”

Almost everything involved with sex and attraction was a little bizarre to Barry in a way, and that made it easier to accept people’s more unusual kinks. Asexuality, the great equalizer.

“We could start off from where we were last time, or try something new.” Barry looks Len in the eye and hooks his ankle around his. “Or we could talk more. Whatever you want.”

Len smirks. “I’d hate to leave something unfinished.”

 

His skin is soft and warm from the shower, and Barry is a little distracted by how much he likes the smell of soap mixing with fresh sweat. They move faster and the strange thrumming comes back, but it feels less intense than Barry remembers from the other night. It must be something related to the way adrenaline kicked up his speed, and Barry thinks that it was probably a mistake to keep this from Caitlin. It takes his full concentration to keep his body’s reactions under control and stay attentive to the man in his bed. Barry doesn't stop as he’s always enjoyed a challenge. When their eyes meet, Len bites his lip and smiles in a way that has joy bubbling up in Barry’s chest, something happy and free. That he’s out of practice isn’t a concern, Barry knows exactly what to do. He concentrates on Len’s reactions, expression, movements. He doesn’t spend a lot of time on his prostate- the longer it’s drawn out the better the release. When his fingers do brush it Len throws an arm over his mouth, one hand gripping and releasing the sheets. Barry pauses. He’s heard all sorts of weird shit come out of people’s mouths during sex, but holding it back wasn’t conducive to relaxation.

“I want to hear you.”

Len groans into his arm, then slides it over his face to grip the pillow behind him bicep flexed and sweat glistening in the sparse hair coating his armpit.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re fingers are incredible, I can see why you chose this as a profession.”

Barry lets the smile pull across his face.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me.”

Barry puts on the lubed condom he’d brought- he’d come prepared this time, and trails one hand along Len’s dick, while he uses the other to line himself up. Barry slides in as slowly as he can manage arms braced above Len’s shoulders, and it’s only by totally focusing on his face that he doesn’t let the tension run through him. Len’s eyes are squeezed shut, but he keeps up a steady stream of expletives and encouragement that would make a sailor blush. He finds a steady rhythm in response Len’s reactions. Barry feels electric, like he’s running at top speed, and he has to clench the sheets in his hands to stop from shaking- vibrating.

Barry’s ready to run when he says, “touch yourself.”

He is infinitely grateful when Len listens and comes within seconds. He moves to pull out, but Len grabs his arm. Barry looks up to meet his eyes, a little panicked. Len’s voice is hoarse and quiet when he orders, “keep going.”

It should rankle, but there’s something grounding in the hand on his arm, the blue eyes that meet his, and coming in Len is like nothing Barry has felt before. The overpowering energy is gone and Barry is sated and tired in a bone deep way he hasn’t been since he woke up from his coma. Their skin is sticky with sweat, and the come on Len’s stomach isn’t sanitary, but Barry can’t find the will power to move from his position draped over Len’s chest. The other man’s fingers are sliding lazy patterns along the muscles of his lower back.

In actuality no one “needs” to pay for sex. There are a lot of different reasons people have trouble connecting to each other outside of a transaction- secrets, insecurities, anxieties. Still, Barry can’t help but wonder why Len isn’t in a relationship with someone. He’s handsome, rich, and self-assured. Something about him puts Barry at ease.

“Thanks for coming.”

Len sounds genuine, but something about it has Barry looking up suspiciously.

There’s a smug glint in Len’s eye.

“Oh my god.”

Barry takes it back- he must have scared off his would be suitors with terrible jokes. Len’s silent laughter moves Barry’s entire body.

 

In the morning Barry eats two containers full of takeout breakfast. Barry tries to protest, but the sound of his stomach growling interrupts him. After he finishes one of the containers, at human speed, Len hands him the other.

“I’m not trying to poison you, don’t you think I would have before?”

“Some people wait, either to get to know the victim, or the thrill of toying with someone that has no idea what the other person has planned. You know- being in control.”

“That's a little frightening.” Len's response is sardonic.

Barry blushes.

“I watch a lot of true crime shows.”

 

 

At his true crime job, Barry does his best to drag out writing up a report. Sometimes it felt physically painful not to speed through things. He can hear two detective discussing a case.

"Who kneecaps someone they're robbing?"

Joe's presence is a welcome distraction. “How's your physical therapy going?”

Barry grins at the code.

“Great, actually. Dr. Wells convinced Cisco that rollerblades and me were a bad combination.”

“I could have done that, assuming you didn’t tell him about the shattered teeth episode of 1998.”

“You still remember that?”

“How could I forget? You’re dad reminded me every day for months to not let you borrow Iris’ skates. Like I could forget with that gaping hole in your mouth.”

“Are you talking about when Barry decided to go down the big hill on Main?”

Barry splutters. Iris must be there for lunch. She looks incredible, and Barry is so glad he doesn’t keep a journal. _Dear diary, I woke up from a nine month coma with superpowers today, Iris is still beautiful_.

“Decided? You dared me to!”

Joe bails out on lunch when Iris appears to be dead set on a new Indian place, citing old case files he was supposed to go through. Barry can see Eddie looking at her with a look familiar from the mirror- longing. Barry sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Do you want to join us Eddie?”

Joe looks at him with a suspicious look in his eyes, but Barry doesn't feel bad. Until the second they're outside the precinct door. Watching Iris and Eddie together- loving and happy- still burns. Barry eats fast and pays the check in full and is out the door before Iris and Eddie can notice. Not like he doesn't have the money. Barry can't stop thinking about Len smirking at him over breakfast. Barry is never going to have that kind of fulfilled relationship. Isn't capable of it.

 

That Friday, Barry learns that Fanny somehow got his phone number and decided he had to go to Lisa's fair well party.

"She hooked you up with her brother, you owe her!"

(Fanny's arguments are questionable at best)

 

Barry had been trying not to think about Len. For the last few days he's slept restlessly in his own bed when he wasn't racing around town as the Flash. Barry was quite capable of being assertive, but he found himself capitulating anyway and was back at Saints and Sinners that night.

The party is smaller than Barry had expected and fortunately Lisa seems pleased that he's there. "So, where are you going?" Lisa smiles at him, twinkle in her eye. She really doesn't remind him much of Len.

"On a road trip. It's part of the job."

Barry makes an inquiring noise and Lisa leans closer to him to respond, but Len interrupts.

"Hello sister, Barry."

He nods at Barry from where his arm is draped around Lisa's shoulder. He's wearing a form fitting blue sweater that highlights the silver in his hair and the lighter blue of his eyes, visible even in the dim light of the bar. Barry thinks that if he'd been a professor, all the students would have crushes on him. He smiles back, feeling like a total dork. Lisa pokes Len in the chest and pouts, breaking their eye contact.

"Lenny, I didn't think you'd come. You owe me a drink."

Len's eyes are soft, but his body posture is tense.

"Anything for you."

Lisa seems to act more exuberant around Len, but Barry can't tell if it was from happiness or something else. Fanny links her arm with his.

"What's up with them?" The words are out of his mouth before he can help it and he backtracks, "Sorry don't answer that."

Fanny snorts and nudges him.

"What family isn't fucked up?"

She drags him over to where Sylvia has a chair in the corner. Barry tries not to watch the siblings play each other at the pool table and spends most of the night talking with Sylvia about Iris, learning that they had already met. Fanny rolls her eyes.

"If Iris hadn't already been dating that pretty boy cop, Sylvia would've left me for her in a heartbeat."

Sylvia denies the accusation. Barry has a hard time believing her, but he could be projecting. Fanny doesn't seem angry or even passive aggressive and their legs remain hooked around each other as they have the entire night.

By the end of the night Barry and Len are sharing a room in an increasingly familiar motel.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for the comments! Also I think this chapter is a little sadder than the previous ones?

He keeps seeing Len. Len never seems bothered by Barry rushing off after calls from work or Cisco, and he usually just spends the night, so no one really notices Barry’s change in schedule. Saving people, running faster than humanly possible, spending time with friends that are smart and dorky in the same way he is, and sleeping curled around a warm body more often than not, Barry feels unbelievably lucky. Sex is even stranger and more uncomfortable with his metahuman physiology, but he can’t bring himself to talk to Caitlin about it. Len would be gone in a few weeks, done with whatever job had brought him here, and that gave Barry an out- the issue would resolve itself.

Len had started getting takeout dinner and breakfast regularly despite Barry’s protests. He has thousands of dollars that he had no idea what to do with shoved in a shoebox under his bed. Which raised the question of why he was doing this in the first place.

Barry had never been very interested in the physical aspect of the job-though he did get a certain amount of satisfaction helping people through some of their issues, he’d done it throughout college so he wouldn’t have to worry about money problems.

The idea of sex with other people, even beautiful people, had never been appealing. And the new complications with his powers made it even more discomfiting, but focusing on Len's face, his pleasure and comfort made it actually enjoyable. Falling asleep with Len's body as a warm comforting presence was even better. Waking up to breakfast after a nightmareless sleep and talking like old friends. Learning more about Len- his ridiculous sense of humor, how scarily smart he was, how much he loved his sister. Telling Len about himself- how much he valued his friends, his deep interest in conspiracy theories. The motel was like a haven from the rest of the world, without reality or responsibilities.

Responsibilities like examining the bloody crime scene where a man murdered his wife and three children before fleeing.

 

"There are no signs of forced entry. The husband most likely fled the scene on foot."

It's a relief to get away from his coworkers, who always make him deeply uncomfortable at scenes of domestic violence. Somehow, over a decade later, everyone still knew about Henry Allen and his poor deluded son.

Being a forensic scientist, he got to solve mysteries, help put dangerous people behind bars, and prevent other people from being harmed. Most of Barry's old clients have run together in a mosh of weird stories recounted to Iris. Sweat, bad smells, and funny noises. Some people Barry rejected off the bat, but those were stories he kept from Iris. Men that touched him without permission, men with Bad vibes, women that acted like they were doing him a favor, the one time someone offered 10k to “own” him. But one of Barry’s most cherished memories from college was sleeping with a woman who was only able to relax with someone who she could trust to follow her terms.

Barry ends up standing on the second story walkway of the low budget motel he was becoming unduly fond of. He can hear muffled sounds of the television through the door, so he uses the extra keycard Len had given him to get in. Some trashy reality show is playing on the screen, ubiquitous narrator making catty jibes about the people being filmed. Len is sitting with his back against the headboard, and only looked at Barry for a moment when he walked in before focusing his gaze back on the shenanigans of the twentysomething popstar wannabes on screen.

“Do you watch those bachelor/bachelorette shows?”

Len sighs. “There’s no point, nothing could top Tila Tequila.”

Barry is not on top of his game tonight, but he’s glad Len called him earlier- focusing on someone else is a good distraction. Len ends up topping that night, affectionate in a way that has Barry's heart swelling. He'd always enjoyed bottoming even less than topping, feeling trapped and vulnerable, but now with his powers he could be free in seconds. But he doesn't want to be.

“You are so beautiful”, “I’m so lucky to have you here”, “you’re perfect.”

He feels so close to this near stranger, whose giving him everything he's craved in return for the one thing he's never wanted. Len likes being with Barry, spends shocking amounts of money for it, but he doesn't really know Barry. If he did he wouldn't be there. Not a single person knew all his secrets.

A hand runs tentatively through his hair, a stark contrast to the confident grip before. Barry looks up. Len’s face is concerned.

“Are you alright?”

Barry realizes his throat is closed up and there are tears streaming down his face. He is really not on top of his game. Barry shakes his head. Len, misunderstanding, starts to pull away. Barry grabs his arm.

“I- I’m fine.”

His voice is embarrassingly wobbly, in direct contradiction to his words, but he doesn’t want Len to stop touching him. Doesn't want him to leave him alone. Barry squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn't have to read the look on the other man's face.

His voice is a little hoarse. “We can stop. I’ll still give you the money.”

Barry’s breath hitches.

“No. Please, just keep going.”

Len sighs and flops down on the bed next to him. He runs a proprietary hand through Barry’s hair, and it should irritate him, but it feels good and just makes Barry cry harder.

Why does he never want people the right way?

 

Barry dreams about old memories, blurred and psychedelic. He's sitting on a couch between his mom and Iris and she's an adult but he's small again. He can't see them, but hears his dad and Joe talking, voices indistinct and angry, but it doesn't bother him. Nothing could with his mom and Iris beside him.

"Barry."

And there's his dad. Young with less stress lines and happier eyes.

"I need to leave."

It's hard to talk, but forces his clumsy tongue.

"No. You didn't do it."

"You need to wake up now."

Joe is looking at him with sad eyes. Iris is gone.

"I'll tell them the truth. Please."

Joe is pulling his shoulder away from his parents, shaking him. Iris looks young again, accusing. His dad is holding a knife, stuck in his mom, blood pouring from the wound.

"I'm telling the truth!"

Barry wakes up to a face full of cold water. Len looks concerned, eyebrows pulled down.

"Sorry, you wouldn't wake up."

Barry runs a hand over his wet face. Well, if he hadn't ended things prematurely the last night, they were surely over now.

"It's no problem, really." Barry stands up, avoiding the other's eyes.

"Sorry. I'll get out of your hair." He finds his clothes by the side of the bed and pulls them on slowly, resisting the urge to speed out of the room.

"Slow down." Len's hand is on his wrist. Barry makes the mistake of meeting his eyes.

"It's okay. I want you to stay, I just have a meeting and didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

There are three take out containers on the table emitting the smells of fried grease and eggs, next to a pile of twenties. Len is wearing a dark grey fitted suit, and a cup of coffee is on the bedside table. He looks like a softhearted business man, the kind that would adopt five dogs. Barry can't help but laugh.

"You know I didn't take you for the type." Len cocks an eyebrow.

"The whole Captain Save a Hoe thing." Len sits down on the bed.

"That's actually insulting. I don't think of you as anything but a capable and consenting adult." Barry rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

"For real?" Len frowns at him. His hand has slid down to Barry's.

"I've been paying you for sex, not to be something less than human. You don't have to tell me about your problems if you don't want to. If you don't want to come back, that's fine, but I'll be here for a few more weeks and am very interested in continuing our arrangement."

Their fingers are entwined.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this isn't going to be Iris/Barry, I am sticking with canon in that they both have some kind of romantic feelings for eachother. Thanks for all the support so far!

Barry’s first college party was a revelation. Well, not the party itself. It was at a house on campus, some frat’s, and the night was hot and muggy. Barry sweat a little on the walk over.  His roommate Jake was apparently unbothered by the heat and crowed gleefully about getting Barry out of the dorm room.

“The only time I was in the room this week was to sleep,” Barry argued.

“Because you were in the library!”

“Uh yeah. It was midterms.”

When they got inside, warm bodies had already raised the temperature- and humidity ugh- higher than outside. The bass line swelled into something Barry could recognize- some top 40 from when he was in middle school. One girl was dancing, with a wide circle of space around her. A lone guy stared speculatively at her ass.

“J-dog!”

A sweaty guy missing his shirt called from across the room, and Barry’s roommate whipped his head around.

“What up motherfucker!”

Barry was dubbed roommate and the shirtless guy and his friends plied them with shots, or attempted to in Barry’s case. The idea of being drunk surrounded by these people was unappealing to say the least. Jake looked extremely irritated by Barry’s suggestion of water.

“You’re such a buzzkill, man.”

They weren't really friends.

After being summarily abandoned, Barry leaned against an empty section of wall with his second beer feeling self-conscious. A group of people standing a few feet away from him talked over each other about who their “real” selves are, and what experiences are worth something. He was about to pull out his phone so that he wouldn't accidentally make a face at one of them, when someone stood next to him, a little too close to be polite, mimicking his posture.

“Hey dude, how’s your night going?”

Barry smiled helplessly, not wanting to say anything rude.

“So is it your first time?”

Barry stared blankly. The guy was about his age, maybe a little older and a couple inches shorter.

“Coming to Pi Phi get-together. I think I’d remember you.”

A flush spread up Barry’s neck and make him feel even hotter. Was this guy flirting with him?

“Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, I just saw you across the room and was thinking your lips would be worth paying for.”

Barry laughed awkwardly. “Yeah how much?”

The guy moved closer, “How does fifty sound?” He said it like something Barry could take as a joke.

“Good?” Half laughing. What was he even saying?

And then there was money in his hand.

As Barry saw it he had 3 options. Call the cops on this creep. Give the money back and laugh it off. Pocket the money. Walk hand in hand with the stranger into an empty bedroom, and go along with what the guy is into. Why not?

It ended up being a little gross, but no more than certain science experiments or cleaning the bathroom after that one time Iris got the flu and Joe was at work.

.

Barry is tracing the veins of Len's wrist with his fingertips, debating whether or not to switch to his tongue and trail to other parts of Len's body. The tv is on low and Barry lays stomach down on the bed, propped up on his arms where Len is sitting on the edge.

"Food, glorious food!" crescendoes up to a volume that overpowers the crickets chirping out side.  A mess hall full of staged raggedy children are singing from the tv.

Barry looks up to where Len is holding the channel changers, bemused. The other man looks downright excited and returns Barry's look with a smirk.

“This was a formative influence.”

An answering grin spreads across Barry's face as Len texts his sister with an incongruous amount of emoticons.

.

In College, Barry spent most of his time studying, talking to Iris, and trying to find a job to supplement the odd occurrence of someone wanting his tutoring. That, alongside his social awkwardness, was not very conducive to making friends.

At sixteen, Barry had a job at a convenience store. After dropping and breaking 70$ worth of merchandise, holding up lines 10 people back, and getting written up for being late seven times, he quit so they wouldn’t be forced to fire him. At university, his scholarship covered his tuition, and Joe offered to cover everything else, but Barry turned him down. He talked to the school and got a gig tutoring people, but as it turned out even though the concepts came easily to him, explaining them to others did not.

The day after the party Barry took the bus home to visit his family for his three days off. When he started the semester, Barry had fully believed he’d be able to visit every weekend if he wanted, but like a catch-22, being away from his family drained him so much he didn’t have the energy to make it happen very often. Joe greeted him with a hug and an “I’m proud of you son” and the pieces fell back together inside Barry’s chest. They were making a salad when Iris got home from work. After over a decade, seeing her still made his heart skip a beat. He fell asleep on the couch that night, arm crossed with Iris’ and Joe a solid warmth on his other side. Barry visited his dad the next day, and any lingering sense of guilt faded.

Barry and his roommate stopped making overtures of friendship after the party, but they cohabited easily enough. Barry wasn’t really thinking about continuing to do that kind of work, but even though he never saw the man from the party again, the encounter stayed on his mind. Watching videos and reading blogs made it seem like a whole new world was opening up. The more he read, the more he realized how odd his first encounter was. He knew the statistics, knew how even some police treat people in that line of work and it was frightening, but the more he read, the more interested he was in trying again.

.

Jitter's is always busy on Sundays, but by the afternoon it slowed down. Barry is nursing a latte, waiting for Iris to finish with her last customers and close, when two familiar faces walk in. Fanny is dressed in sweats, a t-shirt, and what appear to be steel toe boots, dark hair up in a sloppy bun. Sylvia, by contrast, looks ready to model for a catalog that caters to middle class businesswomen with red lips and perfectly coiffed blonde hair. The two women, both in their late twenties, have their pinkies hooked together.

Fanny returns his grin and makes her way over to his table, leaving Sylvia to place their order with Iris.

"Not afraid Iris will steal your girl?" Fanny slaps him on the arm and sits down in the chair next to him, feet on the one across the table.

"So how's the right side of the law been treating ya?"

"Good, good. Living the basic suburban 9-5 life. How're you? No more trouble at work?" Fanny smiles at him, tired but genuine.

"I'm good too. I've got some pretty alright friends watching my back."

Iris and Sylvia come over with their drinks.

"Well, I'd love to stay, but I am incredibly beat."  Fanny softens what could be a rude brush off with a touch to Iris' arm.

"We should all get together sometime!" Iris' eyes are bright as she waves the couple out.

Iris sits in the newly vacated seat, store empty. The sun has started to set and street lights are starting to flicker on.

"I'm glad you guys met each other. I was always a little worried about you when you were away at college. Kind of ironic _now_ you have people to talk to."

"I've always had you." Iris smiles and leans her shoulder against his

"You know what I meant, you dork." They sit in companionable silence, and Barry doesn't feel pressured.  He wants to share whats going on in his life with his best friend.  Even if he can't with the stuff that Joe and Oliver agree would put her in danger, Len is something he never needed to keep from her.

"Actually, I've kind of been seeing someone."

"A psychiatrist?"

"A- no!  A- uh- a client? I don't know. He's really nice. I think I- I think I like him. Romantically?"  Barry manages to stutter out the words, fighting down a blush.

"I think I'm gonna need more details than that."  

So Barry tells her all about Len- and Iris listens with a blank face. She holds his hand and Barry's heartrate speeds up. He wants to kick himself, but Iris starts talking.

"You know this is the first person you've ever told me about being interested in?" Iris inhales a shaky breath. "I don't think you should let the chance of something else slip away just because of the way it started."

Barry grimaces and runs a hand down his face.  "What if he's not looking for a relationship? It just seems kind of wrong, or I don't know, unprofessional to put my feelings on him. It's not what he's paying me for."

"Okay, first? I really can't imagine someone not wanting to be with you." Barry chokes a little on the irony, but Iris waves a hand at him and continues. "And second? You've known the guy for less than a month. You don’t know anything about his life yet, and you couldn't possibly know what he wants. He might not even be the kind of guy you think he is. The sooner you get on the same level the better."

Barry heaves a sigh and stretches his back.

"How've you and Eddie been?"

"Nice topic change." Iris nudges him before sobering. "I don't really know. I like him. He's an amazing guy, but when I started dating him... In a way, it didn’t seem real, because you were in a coma."

"And now it's real." Iris frowns.

"It's always been real. I just- I don't know."

"Is that why you didn't tell Joe?" Iris laughs, sounding a little raw.

"I've never had a serious boyfriend before. I think I'm just scared."

"But you like Eddie."

"I do. Might even love him a little, which should make it easier, but somehow makes it a thousand times worse."

It doesn't hurt as much as Barry thought it would, hearing those words come out of Iris' mouth.  He may be petty and jealous and irritated by Eddie, but he wants Iris to be happy.  Even if it's not with him.

"Then maybe you shouldn't let him slip away."

Barry thinks about his powers.  "Change isn't always a bad thing."

They lean against each other in a comfortable silence. Iris smiles against his shoulder.

"I like talking with you about this kind of thing." Barry's lips turn up in response.

"Yeah, so do I."

"To honesty," Iris toasts with an imaginary glass, "with ourselves and others."

.

Barry broke down and told Iris a few weeks after The Party. The few hours it took her to respond had Barry replaying all of the negative things he’d heard directed toward women doing things like that, not to mention that he'd done it with a guy, but then Iris was at the door to his dorm room. His heart skipped a beat. She looked beautiful in one of his old hoodies, and tired. She hugged him, same as when they were ten years old.

They set up camp in the 24 hour internet café a few minutes off campus, and Barry’s chest beat heavy the entire walk. Iris’ face was blank in the way she got when anything serious happened, the way that drove Barry crazy. She bought him coffee and like the flood gates had opened, he couldn't stop talking- about how he felt about the entire thing, the research he'd been doing, and as he saw Iris’ shoulders unclenching- worry lines relaxing- he could feel his own do the same.

“Bear, you had sex! Before I did.”

Barry let himself grin.

They stayed in the café, talking about logistics and everything in their lives until the sun started to rise, and Barry could feel a thrill buzzing under his skin.

“Wait, would that make me your pimp? And to think I was once going to be a police officer.”

They both fell silent. Barry’s elated feeling lessened and he asked,

“Are you sure you want to?”

Iris grabbed Barry’s hand.

“If you’re sure this is what you want to do, I’ll support you 100% and you better let me help you stay as safe as possible. Also dad can never know.”

Iris and Barry slept on his dorm bed until early afternoon and with her in his arms, Barry didn't think it was humanly possible to love someone more.


	7. Chapter 7

"Can't read my, can't read my, no you can't read my-"

The door opens and Barry snaps his mouth shut, mortified. Len looks at him, amused, as he grabs a toothbrush.

“I was in the hospital for a while and my friend played Lady Gaga on repeat.” Barry curses Cisco in his head.

Len raises an eyebrow while brushing his teeth, peppermint flavoring filling the room.

"Hmmm."  He spits in the sink. "I like your voice."

Barry lets his head fall against the tile and laughs. It smells like bleach, but he doubts its free of bacteria. Super fast healing for the win. Even his cheap apartment was a nicer place than this motel, but Barry still prefers the later. Might have something to do with the company.

After Joe straight up stopped talking to Iris after she told him about Eddie, Barry had started feeling less confident in his planned confession.

When Barry steps out of the shower there's a pile of money on the table and Len is walking out the door. How rich did someone be to spend all of that money? Somehow thinking of the now overflowing shoebox, Barry gathers the courage to grab Len's arm. Their faces are inches apart, height difference leaving them at near even eye level. Barry is irrationally fond of the silver in his hair, his lips, his blue eyes and expressive eyebrows, his smooth pale skin and the scars of a well lived life. Barry takes a step back, coughs, and runs a hand through his hair.

“I don’t feel comfortable taking your money. But I’d still like to spend time with you until you leave if you want that?” Len's face is inscrutable and Barry deeply regrets all of his life choices. Len's mouth opens, closes, and then he grits his teeth. His voice is inflectionless when he responds.

“Why?”

“Why do I like you? I don’t know, I like being around you." Barry tries to meet Len's eyes, but the other man is looking toward the ceiling.

“You want to spend time with me? I know you have friends your own age.”

“How old do you think I am?”

“22?”

“I’m 25.”

Len snorts unattractively and Barry is starting to get irritated. “How old do you think I am?” The question is sardonic and condescending, and he _is_ looking at Barry now, eyes narrowed.

“I don't care. 30-35?”

“42. That is almost two decades.”

“You could just say you don’t want to see me again.” The silence is painful.

“That would be a lie. You know I’m here for a job, right? I’ll be gone in a few weeks.”

Barry rolls his eyes, relieved. “I’m not asking you to go steady, old man.”

 

The next day Barry goes to STAR labs- Caitlin wants to run some tests- Dr. Wells pulls him aside for one of the strangest chats he's ever had.

"I know someone at your age has a lot of distractions, but you need to make what we're doing here a priority."  Dr. Wells sounds frighteningly like Captain Singh.

"Of course."

Wells sighs and pushes up his glasses.

"You know I'm here for you if you need anything." Barry relaxes.

"I know. You've done so much for me already." Wells smiles and claps him on the shoulder.

When Caitlin is done with her tests, Cisco manages to harangue them into watching _Ghostbusters_. Barry has to admit, the set up at STAR labs is pretty sweet. He and Caitlin are sitting on a couch facing a set up of monitors that the movie plays over.  Cisco is chewing on a piece of candy, reclined in a ridiculously fancy rolling chair.

"I'm so glad it was you that got hit by lightning." It takes a full twenty seconds for Cisco to backtrack, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth.

"I mean you're a good friend. I'm glad I met you, not that your life got all kinds of messed up." Barry laughs.

"Me too."

Caitlin smiles at both of them. "Me too."

 

Over the ordeal with the mist, Barry learns that sex is a good stress reliever. Along with the lack of "attraction", although it does pop up every once in a while, Barry tends to not feel "the itch" as often as others do. His nose scrunches up at the word choice in his line of thought.

Len laughs at his expression.

"What's up with you tonight?"

Now was one of the times Barry was feeling it. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to notice that he and Len don't have sex anymore unless he initiates it. He'd gone over to the motel after talking to his dad, and over dinner his bittersweet mood had turned to something more amorous. When Len was done eating, growing increasingly unsettled by the intent way Barry was watching him, Barry pulled him to the bed.

Barry smiles down at Len spread out beneath him, and runs his lip's down the other man's neck, smelling soap and salt.

"I'm happy."

And Barry had always thought it was a figure of his speech, but Len's smile makes his breath catch. "Me too."

 

Lying arm to arm in bed, sunk into the sheets and each other, Barry thinks about what Iris had said. He still doesn't know anything about Len.

"Is it just you and Lisa in your family?"

Len turns to his side so that they face each other. Light seeps in through the motel curtains and highlights Len's cheekbone and the divots in his nose, leaving the rest of his face shadowed.

"Yes."

Maybe it was inheritance money? Barry suddenly remembers Iris telling him about "self-disclosure". After starting University and taking communication and psychology class, she'd become determined to change their family's "dysfunction".  The healthy communication patterns hadn't really stuck with any of them.  But if he wanted to know more about Len, he should probably tell Len more about himself.  Barry tucks his head into Len's chest.

"My dad's in prison."

Almost every single person in Barry's life knows this.  It's a fact that has pretty much defined him for over a decade.  People have pitied, feared, and looked down on him because of it.  Len strokes a hand through his hair.

"He's innocent." Barry qualifies. Len's response is a little unsure. 

"The justice system isn't incorruptible."

"No, but it is necessary."

"That 's not a common view coming from someone in your line of business." Len sounds curious, but Barry loses his courage.

"I guess." 

They lie in an awkward silence and then Barry feels Len's warm huff of breath against the top of his head.

"My- _dad_ is in prison as well.  Guilty on more accounts than he was charged."

"I'm sorry."  

Len's muscles relax and he snorts.  "I'm not. We turned out just fine."

Barry snuggles closer, listening to Len's steady heartbeat.

"I think so too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter :) The original plan for this story was to end with Len making Barry take the money. Not sure if changing it was a good idea... Oh well


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this, I hope you got some enjoyment out of it :) I really appreciate all the kudos and comments and stuff. Y'all're great.

“Giving me ridiculously expensive stuff kind of defeats the purpose of not paying me. I have plenty of money.”

Len makes a sour face at this before looking up from his laptop with a smirk.

"I gave that to you for selfish reasons."

Barry crosses his arms, extremely expensive leather banded watch in hand. Len has turned his attention back to the screen. He's sitting in the patchy armchair at the coffee table.

“What am I going to do with this? Watches are obsolete.”

"Maybe with something on your wrist, you'll remember when you have somewhere to be." Barry sighs and flops down face up on the bed.

"You said you didn't mind when I was late."

"I'm a meticulous planner. I adjust to a fifteen to hour long timeframe from when you say you'll be here, allowing for the offchance that you'll cancel with no warning."

"Okay, it sounds like you mind."

"You're worth waiting for." Barry's head shoots up. He couldn't be saying that line with a straight face. Len is looking at him spread out on the bed, eyes half lidded.

"I like the idea of you wearing something I gave you."

And wow. He sounds very- believable. Barry swallows, thrown. Then he makes the mistake of looking at Len's screen.

_THE STREAK LIVES_

Barry rolls onto his stomach and groans.

"Don't tell me you're obsessed with the flash too."

"The Flash?"

"The blur, the streak."

Len hums. "I was more interested in the Darbinyan murders, but local legends are pretty fascinating." Barry relaxes.

"So you don't think he's real?"

There's a beat of silence.

"He?"

Barry feels a strong urge to run directly into the ocean.

"I mean it, the thing. My, uh, my best friend is convinced that it's a man. But no one has actually seen anything. I mean there's no evidence and the idea that a person could move that fast is ridiculous." The words almost blur out of his mouth.

"Alright Mr. Scientist. No belief without proof."

 

Iris somehow manages to guilt Barry into going to the Wests' for a family dinner. Joe ate his dinner faster than even Barry could, making minimal small talk, and then left to meet some guys at a bar. Iris groans and shoves her chopsticks into the rice on her plate.

"I even got spicy beef. He _loves_ spicy beef. Probably more than he loves me."

Barry responds through a mouthful of food. "He forgave you for trying to become a cop behind his back"

"Yeah, when I withdrew the application." Barry shrugs a shoulder and Iris kicks him.

"I'm not _withdrawing_ from my relationship because my dad's a controlling jerk."

"I still think he's more mad that you didn't tell him."

" _Changing the subject_ , how've things been with your mystery guy?"

"Really good." Barry grins, a nice feeling bubbling up in his chest. "I think we'd be dating if he wasn't leaving so soon."

Iris raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "Ever heard of long distance? What does he do anyway?"

Barry frowns. "I don't actually know. He probably makes a lot of money though. Gave me a really nice watch."

"Barry! How can you _still_ not know? That's super sketchy. He could be like a drug dealer or assassin or something. He could be an investment banker!"

Barry rolls his eyes. "He doesn't know I work at the precinct either. Don't give me Joe's judgmental look!"

Iris huffs. "Fine show me the watch."

Barry's not a huge fan of the watch. Expensive (what is essentially) jewelry isn't really his style. But despite his complaining he's glad Len gave it to him. Glad Len wanted him to stay, that they could spend all that time together and be friends. That Barry got to see him half awake in the morning, relaxing into sleep at night, coming undone under Barry's influence. He suddenly regrets every second he didn't spend with Len.

 

It hits Barry that night.

Len was really leaving. Two days from now he'd be gone. It wasn't something Barry had really thought about. The idea of being in a situation like this last month would have been laughable, but now Barry's stomach is sinking and he has no idea what to do. Len is talking to someone (a "business associate") outside in a low voice, while Barry waits for him on the bed.

Barry rolls under the cover and closes his eyes, tries to breathe slowly through his nose. When Len comes back inside Barry doesn't move from where he's lying. Len walks near silently across the room and switches off the light. Fingers run gently through Barry's hair, and he feels lips against his forehead. Len settles down beside hims and Barry listens to his breath even out into a sleeping pattern. Barry's heart and mind are racing too fast to let him follow.  He slowly sneaks an arm around the Len and rests his face against his arm, staring into the darkness.

 

The next day, Barry is later than usual, clumsier than usual, and slower than usual. Joe pulls Barry aside after an extremely uncomfortable exchange with Captain Singh.

"Are you okay?" His face is serious, deep brown eyes looking over Barry in true concern, born from love and familiarity.

It doesn't even cross Barry's mind to lie. "I've been seeing someone. They're leaving tomorrow." His voice breaks embarrassingly.

Joe's eyes squeeze shut and he sighs. "My children. Does this person know how you feel?"

Barry frowns and shakes his head. Joe puts a hand on his shoulder, familial and comforting. "Then tell them. Anyone would be _lucky_ to be with you. Do whatever you need to do so that you don't regret it."

Barry brightens like a light bulb. "Could you tell chief that I'll make up my work on Monday?"

"Since when do I not cover for you? Don't forget to say goodbye."

Barry nods, solemn. He turns to leave and then spins back around.

"Could I borrow your record player?"

 

Barry almost has everything perfect when he gets a call from work. They didn't get the report he was supposed to have put in the system. Barry curses and races back to the precinct. He's just handed his work to the Detective when Len calls him.

"Barry?" The other man sounds a little concerned. "Someone's been in our room-"

"Oh! I'll be there in a sec-" "Wa-" Barry ends the call and runs from work. Actually _runs_ as fast as he can to the side of the hotel where he stops to beat out the blossoming flames on the bottom of his shoes and-shit-the corner of his sleeve. He jogs up the metal staircase to their room where Len is waiting for him outside the door, wearing dark jeans, a leather jacket, and a frown. How had Barry not noticed how beautiful Len is when Lisa introduced them?

"Do I smell burning rubber?"

Barry rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, I- uh- there was an accident at work?"

Len's eyebrows dip into his frown and he steps forward, holds Barry by his shoulders and looks him up and down. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Sorry I didn't tell you about the room, I thought I'd get back sooner than you. You sounded kind of freaked out on the phone."

Len's shoulders relax and his hands slide down to Barry's elbows. He sighs squeezes his arms and lets go. "It's okay. I was just surprised.  So you did all this?"  He doesn't exactly sound happy.

He opens the door and let's Barry through first. Barry winces, looking at the room with a new perspective. There are pale blue fairy lights strung up around the bed and doorways, five different bouquets of flowers scattered across the room, a white table cloth over the round card table, and a record player in the corner. It's so cheesy and trashy Barry doesn't know what he was thinking. He wishes he could just race through and get rid of everything. Barry puts his hands over his hands.

"Oh god. I am _so_ sorry. Just give me a minute and I'll-" Len cuts him off and pulls him into a hug.

"Hey." Barry can hear his voice rumble soothingly from where his ear is pressed against Len's neck. He presses his nose into the leather jacket. "It's really nice."

Barry chokes out a laugh and Len runs a strong hand from his lower back to the nape of his neck. "I mean it. I just wasn't expecting it."

Len steps back and Barry misses the feeling of his body against him.

"Where did all of this come from?"

Light blue eyes look soft, but the rest of Len's face is frighteningly blank. Barry stares him in the eyes anyway. "I like you. This was supposed to be a stupid gesture to woo you."

It's something that should be obvious, but Len looks gobsmacked.

His response is slow and measured. “I’m not the kind of person you think I am.”

Barry scowls and grabs Len's hand.

“How could you possibly know who I think you are? I know you love old cheesy musicals, I know you’re trying to fix things with your sister, I know I like spending time with you. I know that you're generous and care about other people. I know that you have a tendency to kick in your sleep. I know that you make me happy, and I _like_ you. I know you like me too.”

Barry kisses him.

It's awkward. Len is stiff, muscles wound tight, but before Barry can think about stepping back he relaxes, pulls Barry to his chest, and shifts his chin up so that they're kissing properly. Their lips part, breath mingling.

Barry looks at Len's eyes, pupils wide. "What do you want?"

Len drops his head to the crook of Barry's neck. He presses a kiss there.

"Just stay with me."

 

When Barry wakes up Len is gone. Before he can freak out fully he notices that a note has replaced one of the bouquets.

_You have my number_

Barry frowns and then his lips twitch and stretch into a wide grin.

"Yes!"

 

Iris is working when Barry goes to pick up coffee. Jitters is crowded with a grumpy looking clientele and her face is fixed into a sweet customer service smile. She is so beautiful. And it's kind of scary to think that he might not want something more for the rest of his life, but he feels lighter than he has in a long time. Iris' smile shifts to something more genuine when she sees him.

 

Cisco is setting up a ping pong table when he gets to the lab.

"Hey, thanks man!" Cisco's excitement is palpable and Barry feels an answering excitement rise up in his chest. Wells rolls in with a chess board on his lab.

"Good morning Barry. How is Ms. West?" Barry feels so lucky to be able to call these incredible people his friends.

Caitlin gives Barry a funny look when he brings her coffee.

“You’re happier, like I was when I started dating Ronnie.” Barry thinks about kissing Len lazily on the bed, record player scratching through the Sam Cooke album he'd found at a second hand store.  Whispering sweet nothings to each other like lovestruck teenagers.  He blushes.

"Come on, it's time for me to beat you at operation."

"I am an actual Doctor."

 

 

Barry sees the face of the thief and his heart skips a beat. Everything speeds up around him, and then the security guard gets shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end folks!


End file.
